


A warm summer day

by charlotteestailleurs



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff I guess, Le bac, M/M, soft boyfriends, very brief mention of non graphic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 11:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19700311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteestailleurs/pseuds/charlotteestailleurs
Summary: "He knows his voice is weird and detached but he doesn't know how to come back to the ground. So many things are coming crashing down on him all at once, the realisation that his life is moving on, that he did it, that he has come so far in the past year that he has a hard time following it now that he thinks about it. He's been so caught up in the flurry of exams, his and Lucas', various events, his friends, that he didn't even take the time to ponder on the enormity of it all. "





	A warm summer day

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my second fic ever! I hope you like it. Don't hesitate to drop a little kudo or a comment to tell me what you think - good or bad. I'm not used to writing fanfiction so any advice is good to take. Also, this is un-betaed so if you spot any mistake please tell me so I can correct it. Enjoy <3

The day he gets his exam results is a still warm, bordering on suffocating day. The heat wave that washed over Paris is not completely gone. He smiles, and smiles, until his cheeks hurt when he finally spots his name on the list at the entrance of the lycée. Lucas's here, a few meters behind him and the other teenagers pressing together to take a sneak at the list. People are hugging each other in happiness – or disapointment – executing weird victory danses with their friends, sharing high fives. It's a bit weird, he thinks, to see all those people that he barely knew for the last time. Some parents are here, some teachers too. His philosophy teacher comes to him to congratulate him. He likes the man. He's Always been kind to him and, to be honest, he's a little weird, just enough to be interesting. 

This is it, he thinks. I did it. Lycée's over. 

It's spinning in his head a little as he extracts himself from the crowd around the boards. Lucas is standing there, a question written over his face, warm, comforting. They talked about it, when Eliott was studying. His boyfriend repeated several times during their conversations that he was so, so, proud of him, that he knew he would ace it, and even if he didn't, he'd still be proud of him, and be here, and love him. That's when it hits him : it's finally the holidays. For real. The results are out, he's free, until mid-september, when uni will start. He's free to spend his days drawing, with his friends, with Idrisse to catch up for lost time, with Lucas, he's free to go wander around, fill his mind with sunshine and breathe, he is free to breathe. 

« I passed, he tells Lucas. »

He knows his voice is weird and detached but he doesn't know how to come back to the ground. So many things are coming crashing down on him all at once, the realisation that his life is moving on, that he did it, that he has come so far in the past year that he has a hard time following it now that he thinks about it. He's been so caught up in the flurry of exams, his and Lucas', various events, his friends' antics, that he didn't even take the time to ponder on the enormity of it all. And for such a bland, banal thing, it holds so much meaning. So he kisses Lucas to hide the tears of joy, fear, elation, gratitude ? – he doesn't even know anymore – that are pooling underneath his eyelids. He kisses him long and deep, without as much tongue as he'd like because they're still in public, and then drops a few firm pecks on his lips. He cradles Lucas' face in his hands as he strokes his cheeks and brings their foreheads together, marvelling one more time at the small wonder his boyfriend is.  
He knows Lucas is both happy and scared, because it also means going to uni for Eliott, shifting their whole routine and habits for the incoming year, and it scares Eliott too. But they'll manage. They have time. Two months, to be precise, to organize, to enjoy. 

« I love you, he says.

\- I love you too, Lucas answers, almost automatically (– not because it's a habit, a comfortable routine that is devoid of real flesh, no, because it's so true, so strong and so real that it jumps out of their mouth every time they say it.) I'm so proud of you. »

Eliott smiles, and smiles, and Lucas does too. He managed to pass his French exam – not by much, but still got a better grade than he usually did during the year. As he says, it's not his jam. 

« I'm proud of you too, he whispers. »

And that's true too. The past year has not been easy on Lucas either. And no matter how smart you are, when you're not doing well and you're alone with it, school and exams are hard. He knows it well, which is why he is extra proud of his strong, resilient boyfriend for overcoming it and managing to get back on his feet. 

Lucas opens his mouth to answer when the rest of the gang barges in – late and loud. Lucas turns towards them with a big grin, but he lets Eliott drop the news.

The « I passed » arises a chorus of shrieks and hollers. Basile launches himself at Eliott and squeezes the life out of him. Arthur hesitates before doing the same and proceeds to knock his glasses off in the process. Yann is more composed and claps him on the soulder, and holds his hand there, heavy, warm, and gives him a very Yann smile that expresses kindness and pride and affection. He understands why he's Lucas' best friend, especially in moments like these. 

He has so many people to call and text, he realizes. He does so on the way to the place where they're going for lunch. The heat is starting to rise as midday approaches and he relishes in the shade of the trees they walk under for a while as he rings Idrisse, Lucas' sweaty hand in his. 

Idrisse shouts a little, congratulates him, even says « I love you » and Eliott's heart swells when he realises that it doesn't hurt anymore that he means it in a platonic way. He texts Sofiane after that – he doesn't know exactly what the phone rate is for Morocco. He'll cal him later if it's possible. 

The phone call to his parents lasts a bit longer and is somewhat bittersweet. Tears threaten to make their grand comeback as they congratulate him, over and over, even dare to tell him they're proud of his achievments, of him as a whole. Lucas squeezes his hand a bit tighter when he feels his boyfriend tense a little. He does it immedialty, almost as an afterthought. It's become natural for them to be there for each other in the last months. It stills baffles both of them a little how in tune they are with each other. 

They join the girls at the small take out place the boys chose. Daphné shrieks, not unlike her boyfriend. Manon offers a warm smile that is very her. Imane squints at him, but smiles, cheeks full and lips pursed in her usual way. Alexia high fives him, Emma fist-bumps him. They've not all passed French with the same grades as Imane and Manon, but they managed, and the holidays are starting for real, bitches!Alexia reminds them. 

They all eat on the grass of a park, somewhat shielded from the heat by the shade of the trees and the lukewarm breeze that's softly blowing on their skin. Eliott's sweating, just like every body else. When the sun is too high and they're done eating, they part ways. There's a party at Emma's tonight, to celebrate, with both premières and terminales. Lucas nods enthusiastically when she asks if they'll be there. They promise to brings beers – the boys share a secret smile at that, well, expect Basile, who's too busy holding his girlfriend way too close for the heat to fully follow the conversation. 

They run to the shower the second they enter Eliott's flat. The bus ride was absolute hell – smelly, hot, sweaty – and the walk after that even worse. They let the water cool them, wash away the stickiness of their skin. They kiss, let their hands roam, throw shampoo foam at each other in playfight – and only stop when Lucas almost comes crashing through the shower door after slipping. They go out still naked, towel-dried just enough so that they won't drip on the floorboards, but sill wet. Lucas looks so beautiful, so soft in the dimmed light that goes through the closed blinds – he only opens them at night, to keep the cool air in – that Eliott's heart feels like it's going to explose in his chest. He has the nerve to wink at him as he opens the bedroom door and slips in. Eliott doesn't even know if they'll manage to do anything before they go back to being too hot and sticky.

They do, actually. Lucas gives him one of the best blowjobs he has ever had after pushing him onto the bed covers and kissing him senseless, grinding on each other for a few minutes before it becomes too much. Lucas smiles at him after he comes down from his high, dropping kisses all the way up his chest and his neck to reach his mouth. It's only a matter of minutes before Eliott flips him over to return the favor, relishing in each wimper and moans and pre-orgasm babble he gets out of Lucas as he does so. 

« Putain, Lucas pants, a hand over his forehead. »

Eliott laughs and hums into the soft, content kiss they share. There's a thin layer of sweat on his temple as he brushes his fingers on it, to thread them in his messy hair. He's proud of Lucas for that too, for how far he's come regarding his sexuality in the span of a few months. Lucas who was terrified of being with a guy, terrified of not being good enough with sex is long gone now. It's comfortable, full of trust and love. Eliott is so grateful to the universe that he is the one Lucas shares that with, this special link. It's their treasure, one only the two of them can see.  
Tonight, they'll go out and party and have fun with their friends. Right now, they stare at each other and spend a very lazy afternoon together, because they can, in the cool air of Eliott's apartment. They pepper kisses on each other's skin, they worship each other, they make that treasure grow and grow and hoard it like a dragon, one that breathes in and out the air they share, and lives doing his best to face his fears and loving, loving so deeply it's almost painful, minute by minute.

**Author's Note:**

> About the weather: I don't exactly know how's the heat now in Paris but yesterday (the day of the bac results) was warm enough to be uncomfortable where I live, and the heat is always higher in Paris, and more difficult to deal with because it's a big city. So I hope my guess was accurate.


End file.
